Do what you have to do
by Alicia08
Summary: Buffy travels home after her confrontation with Angel in “I’ll remember you”, while Angel alone bares the pain and memory of the faithful day that was not!!
1. Do what you have to do

**Title of Story**: Do what you have to do

**Title of Chapter**: Lonely Place

**Rating**: PG-13

**Disclaimer**: I don't own anything. All characters belong to Joss Whedon, UPN, FOX, the WB and ME, as it should be. I don't like them, I don't want them, they piss me off….well, of late anyways!

**Pairing**: B/A

**Timeline**: Takes place at the very end of "I will remember you"

**Description:** Buffy travels home after her confrontation with Angel in "I'll remember you", while Angel alone bares the pain and memory of the faithful day that was not!

**Authors Note**: The song (inspiration for this story), being used is "Do what you have to do", by Sarah Mclachlan. It will come into play in the last chapter.

* * *

"Bus to Sunnydale now boarding," came a distant voice that tore me from my thoughts. I look to my left to see a small child looking up at me. A smile brightening his features, his tiny face glowing in amusement. 

The day was hot, muggy and humid and I felt the sweat slowly roll down the curve of my back. The blue v-neck laced blouse I wore sticking to my skin, drenched in sweat. The air around me reeked with the scent of cheap perfume, the stench of liquor…

I take my hand to my forehead wiping away the perspiration, as it threatened to blind my sight, as a strand of hair falls from place atop my crown. The ponytail it had been immersed in, coming loose. My hands fly back, scooping my blond locks within a tight grip, as I remove the rubber band that had once held it in place, only to replace it where it had been, pulling on the ends of my hair to tighten the hold.

"You're pretty," were the first words out of his mouth. I look down at the young boy curiously, before scanning the area for the individuals he belonged to. It really was no use. Crowds of people hustled along, buying tickets, greeting loved ones they hadn't seen in ages, who hurriedly made their way off arriving buses. Small children running about, as their parents watched on, waiting for their bus to board. Giving up my search, I shift my focus back to the small child looking up at me.

"Where are your parents?" I ask him inquiringly, my eyes glancing up once again to search out his guardian

He giggled as he covered his mouth with his hands, trying to keep his laughter subdued, before he turned from me, and quickly ran into the awaiting arms of a young lady. She looked a few years older than I. The lines of stress, making themselves a permanent home within the cervices of her face. She looked tired, but she was happy. The joy that emanated from her as she embraced her son filled the dank bus station with life.

I wonder how long the little boy had been admiring me? Or just staring… whatever. I must have been more entrenched in my own thoughts than I realized.

The little boy

I once again refocus my attention to the display of affection mere feet from me. A young man had now joined the two. He too seemed jovial. His arms winding around the young woman, holding her tight, flowering her with small kisses. Their eyes met, before he placed a final kiss to her forehead, only to bend down and engulf the young boy into a tight embrace.

I stand, the humid air hitting me dead on, sending a blow to my senses. Dizziness overwhelms me for a mere second, before the red spots in which graced my vision disappears. I regain my senses and look to the small family once again. A smile spreading across my face. Stretched from ear to ear. They seem so happy, and I'm so happy for them. At least someone is happy.

Bitter much!

My smile slowly recedes and becomes strained, as I once again drift off into thought.

Looking back now. What did I really expect to happen? I went there to do what I needed to do, and I did it. A quick Hi… say what needed to be said and then leave. That's exactly what happened, so why do I feel this ache in the pit of my stomach threatening to eat me alive with anguish.

It hurts.

More than I thought it would.

I stood outside his office building for a while, just standing there before I summoned enough courage to enter. My head buzzed as bombs went off in my head, time rushing by me. I really don't know how long I stood there. I had been so nervous, the butterflies in my stomach eating away at my insides… consuming me, that for a spilt second, I contemplated turning on my heal and walking away.

I knew he was there.

I felt him.

I always did whenever he was close. It's more than the natural way I'm able to sense a vampire when they're in close proximity. With Angel… it's different. It's more than slayer senses.

I feel him.

Running through every limb of my body, finding it's way beneath my vein, shooting up to my very core.

My soul.

I finally entered, feeling the tickles of nervous energy roaming free in my belly. The mere idea of seeing him again after so long frightened, excited, and angered me.

Frightened because of the fear that he had moved on. That he didn't love me anymore.

Excited just by his presence. To be so close to him. To smell his sweetness, and angered because he broke my heart. Because I was the gullible girl who gave him her heart, and then let him crush it.

He left me alone in the dark.

In this lonely place.

"Hello," I recalled saying. Not that anyone would hear. It was more of a mumble. That was when I heard the voices coming from a small office… his office, near by. I wonder if he keeps a picture of me, in his desk? I doubt it, but the thought itself makes me warm all over. I take steps toward the voices, the distant chatter becoming clearer and the conversation fills my head.

Angel!

His voice was undeniable. The gentleness of his voice vibrated through my ear, and I closed my eyes, exhaling a breath as I became overwhelmed with memories. Memories of the day my heart shattered into a gazillion pieces. The day Angel ripped it out from my insides with his bare hands, and stomped on it till it stopped beating. Well, not literally of course, but it sure felt like it.

Cordelia.

I had heard her voice then. She was talking… about me. Things happened so quickly afterwards

"_A little upset_… _wouldn't you_," I had told him. I was in the office now. Cordelia and Doyle, I think that was his name, seemed perplexed at my sudden intrusion. Cordelia though, was a bit too talkative and strangely polite for my taste. But Angel, he was shocked to see me. His mouth dropped open the moment I made my presence known. Good, now he had a small inkling of the way I felt after finding out he was in Sunnydale and hadn't the decency to inform me, I remembered thinking to myself. I took some joy in that, but it quickly faded as his dark piercing orbs caught mine. I gazed at him, and my breath left me. My hazel, eyes, searing, blazing, in a face as beautiful as a fallen Angel.

Very ironic isn't it?

It was like staring in fascination into the glittering depths of a magician's crystal ball waiting breathlessly to see what new vision would appear. But, I had put that behind me, blocked it out, and focused on the goal.

Got right to the point.

_"I'm sorry if I handled this wrong. I mean, what else was I supposed to do?" _

_"I don't know. - I just know that when you're around, whether I see you or not, - I feel you - inside - and it throws me." _

_"Throws me, too." _

_"So let's just stick to the plan. We keep our distance until a lot of time has passed. Given enough time we should be able to…" _

_"Forget?"_

_"Yeah. - So, I'm gonna go - start forgetting." _

_  
_It's not working. It's been six hours, and I'm not forgetting. All I can think about is him. My intentions had been to give him a piece of my mind. How dare he come to my town, watch me, stalk me, and then leave without even telling me about it. What? Was I not important enough to him, to be told the truth? He can see me, but I couldn't see him. God I could just hit him.

He does this all the time. Makes decision thinking it's in my best interest, without even having the decency to take my feelings, my opinions into considerations. I do have them you know… opinions… feelings. I'm not a fuckingkid, I never was. Why can't he see that? I don't need protecting. I'm the slayer. I'm the one who does the protecting. That's how it's always been.

_"So I guess we've covered it, right?" _

_"I guess we did."_

_"And that's all there really is to say."_

It really wasn't.

There was so much more to say. So much I wanted to say. Tell him and have him hear it, and understand where I was coming from. What I was feeling. But we've done this before. It started with letters at first, and then a phone call here and there. But after a while, it just got too painful.

To talk to him, but not be with him.

To not touch him.

To not feel his skin next to mine, his cool lips caressing mine.

To not have him take me in his arms and make me his sole possession and devour my every essence.

To not let him surround me… his sea to my shore.

Friendship was something we could never have just by itself. I wanted more, and eventually it would lead to more. If things had continued the way it had, we wouldhave always been teetering on the edge of something. Something primal, yearning, that would devour us whole. And well… that wouldn't be of the good. And when push comes to shove…

…You do what you have to do,

and we did just that. We stopped. Stopped writing. Stopped calling. Hopefully, sooner or later we would both forget. Well, that was the plan. The plan we both agreed to, and apparently, he couldn't stick to the plan.

Although, if I'm truthfully honest with myself, if his little Irish partner in crime buddy, hadn't gotten the vision, I wouldhave probably been the one to not stick to the plan first. The phone calls and letters had stopped - yes - and things were finally progressing for me. I was in college. Meeting new people, some of which, I wish, I never met, but it's not like I can just turn back time.

I would walk the hallways of UC Sunnydale, and I'd see him, or someone that looked like him. My throat would throb and ache as I caught ghosts of him in other people. His stance, the way he half smiled, his dark penetrating eyes, the way he moved. I saw it in others and it drove me mad. Why did he haunt my thoughts constantly? It wasn't fair. Here I was trying to build something new, and he did nothing but float through my head, trampling and pushing all other thoughts out, like a lion fighting and clawing its way to the top for power and dominance, until nothing dare challenge its position.

I tried my hardest not to think about him, not to talk about him, mostly cause it was too unbearable. It was hard for me to talk about him, even with Will. I remember that the most.

"Buffy…what's wrong. What is it?" my best friend would ask

"Nothings wrong. Really. I'm fine. I just have a headache is all," would be my reply.

But I knew she knew. And being Willow, she never forced the question. She would just comfort me the only way she knew how. She'd look at me, and smile. Crawl to where I sat on my bed, wrap her arms around me and squeeze tightly. And I wanted so much for her not to let go. Cause if she did, I would fall apart right there and then. Shatter into a million pieces, until there was nothing left but a broken shell.

I remember breathing in the scent of her hair, as the tears made there way over and through my dark lashes, silently trickling down my cheek, making little puddle stains on her favorite little pink shirt with the little bunnies on the front.

"God Will, I'm ruining your…"

"Sshh…it's ok. Didn't like it much anyway"

And we would stay curled up in each other's embrace, until I cried my last tear. Until we both had nothing left to give. The river of tears had dried up for the night, but tomorrow it would return. It always did. We never articulated what each was feeling, because we already knew. Oz had left her weeks before, and it hurt me to see her in so much pain. I've been there myself.

Been?

I'm still there

There was no reason to talk about it. Cause we both knew how it felt. And the weird thing is. I took comfort in that fact. Not because Will was hurting, but because I wasn't alone with my pain.

"Final call for bus to Sunnydale," came a mumbled voice over the loud speaker, and I'm immediately pulled from my reverie. I scan the area for the small family that had given me great joy, but they were no longer in site. I sigh, and make my way to gate 32.

If I had known that the day would get this muggy, I wouldhave accepted my father's proposition for a ride back home, but I wanted to be alone with my thoughts. Fathers, and mine specifically, liked to always probe. It was never ending.

"Sweetie, what's wrong?"

"Nothing dad. I'm just tired"

"No. I can tell something is troubling you. Do you want to talk about it"?

"No, not really".

But that never was the end of the conversation. He was persistent as hell, and eventually, I would finally break down and tell him everything.

Don't think he would have understood about Angel though.

"Dad, I'm in love with a guy half my age. Well, actually more than half my age. Um, he's a 255-year-old vampire, with a soul. Ya see…we made love on my 17th birthday, and he changed. He became mean, and stalked not only me, but also everyone I knew. He did terrible things. Even killed and maimed a few people, including the librarians girlfriend, Jenny. I eventually had no choice, but to send him to hell where he stayed and most likely was tortured for over a 100 years. Yep… only a 100 years, because guess what? He came back. But he wasn't mean anymore. He came back as the same guy I fell in love with, so we started dating again. But things got complicated, and he decided it best if he left me, and he did. He broke my heart that day. And well…you see, I had been to see him earlier, and that dad, is what's troubling me"

I hear myself laugh softly at what my father's reaction would be to it all. Then my laugh deepens at the absurdity of even contemplating telling my father about my love life, or lack there of. Nope, traveling home via the bus was the best idea.

I feel a breeze of cool air and the vibrating sounds of the bus's air conditioner, soothes my mood, as I make my way up the metal rigid, knotty steps of the bus. I walk down the narrow isle, sideways, the small carry-on bag in my hand, held in front of me. I reach an empty seat, the isle taken up by a young woman, who quickly glances up, to look my way, smiling welcomingly. Her dark hair short, and choppy. Probably in her late 20's I would guess.

"I get a little bus sick, so I stay away from the window at all cost," she tells me, still beaming, as she stands to let me by.

"It's fine. I like the window seat," I respond, shoving the bag in my hand, into the compartment above, then quickly take my seat, the cushion sinking as my weight crushes into it.

"So, Sunnydale huh?"

"What?"

"Sunnydale. Where ya heading?" she clarifies. Her eyebrow arches, as she looks at me questionably. "I've heard things. Weird things about that town"

I smile at her briefly. "Haven't we all," I return, wanting to end the conversation fast.

She frowns. "So, do you live in Sunnywierd," she finishes with a snort.

As corny and stupid as it was, a smile creeps its way into my features. "Yeah. I do actually"

"So, whatcha doing here in the city of Angels," she inquires, very much in the talkative mood

"I was visiting my dad" I made it short. She doesn't need to know everything

"Divorce huh"

"What?" I say caught off guard

"Well, you don't look old enough to be living on your own. Pops in LA, Moms in Sunnydale, and you do the visiting thing" She smiles despondently. "I know how it is. My parents split back when I was in high school. Had to do the traveling thing too. Mom got Christmas, and my father got Thanksgiving.

Indignation rises through me, as I turn to the stranger in the seat beside mine. "I'd have you know that I'm 18. Old enough to do a lot of things," I tell her, as my righteous anger fades.

"18?… I would of guessed 16. Guess I'm loosing my touch," the brunette acknowledges with a frown.

Fuck. Can she be anymore annoying? Maybe driving home with my father wasn't such a bad idea after all

I put on my best fake smile possible and address her

"Guess so"

I gaze out the window of the bus, and I see the scenery… the trees, the buildings, the houses rushing by. We were on the highway. Didn't even know or realize, with all the chattering of my bus buddy here, that the bus had left the station.

I sigh, and lay back into the soft contorts of my seat. Taking a deep breath, my mind begins to wonder off, the memories of the times Angel and I had together, taking its position in the forefront of my mind. I stare out the window; tall green trees are all I see now, and let the memories play out painfully before my eyes.

The Prom.

I didn't think he would come. He made it clear the night before that it was over, but when I saw him walk through the doors to the gym, my breath caught in my throat, and I struggled to get air into my lungs. My eyes blazed suddenly with a fierce joy. He had changed his mind. He wanted to be with me. Why else would he of come?

As we danced, he told me it was only for tonight, and I lied. I told him I knew, that I understood.

But I didn't.

I didn't understand any of it. But at that moment, I didn't care. He was with me, and for those few hours, that was all that mattered. I was at the prom, the grand finale, the big hoop-la, which marked the end of my four years of high school, with my boyfriend. Much older boyfriend of the undead variety, but love really doesn't take such things into consideration. You love someone one… faults, dead lungs, lack of exposure to the sun and all.

We danced the entire night away. The slow songs, I especially liked. His large masculine arms wrapped around me, and my entire body melted into him. I allowed myself to sink into his embrace, and pressed my face against the cool fabric of the tuxedo he wore. He smelled of soap and… something else.

He smelled like Angel.

The sweetness that is Angel, and I inhaled deeply, savoring the sweet, yet masculine scent.

I gazed up and looked into the burn of his stare. My throat itched, as his mouth slid over mine. It was gentle at first, his mouth caressing the softness of my lips. Then our tongues battled for dominance in a duel to the death, and I groaned softly, his large hands curling around the back of my neck. I felt his teeth gently biting on my swollen lower lip, and as I leaned into the kiss, he had suddenly stopped and backed away.

"I'm sorry," he said roughly, his head lowered, not meeting my gaze

I said nothing. Just let my head fall into his chest, and enjoyed his closeness.

The night had come to an end far too early for my liking. Angel had offered to walk me home and I said yes. The stars were bright and heavy in the sky that night. Angel reached down and laced his fingers through mine, our palms cleaving together as we made our way down the quiet, moonlit street. I held on for dear life in quiet desperation, as the wind blew through my hair, making me shudder. I snuggled up to him, holding him close, and I felt his body tense. He stopped, loosened my hold on his arms, and gazed down at me, his expression poignant.

"This was a bad idea," he had told me

And I remembered gazing up at him, with fear in my eyes. My heart was beating rapidly, with the weight of a thousand heavy bricks holding it down, smothering it till the thump, thump, thump, thump rhythm would slow and eventually fade. "What?" I asked, my voice cracking in the wind. "This?… you and me?. It's a good idea Angel. Why can't you see that? I love you. We can make this work. Please,"I remembered my words. I was pleading with him to not leave me.

To stay

"Buffy, I can't. This… us. It would never work. You deserve…"

"A normal life? Someone who can give me children? Someone who won't burn to a crisp in the sun?" I spat at him. My nostrils flared, my eyes glittered widely. "News flash Angel. I don't want any of that. I want you. I'm the slayer Angel. Do you know what that means? It means that my life will never be normal. Do you get that? Do you?" I barked, my emotions on the brink of exploding.

"Buffy, You don't under…"

"Don't give me that bullshit Angel. I don't fucking want to hear it," the tears trickling down my cheeks then. My emotions were raw that night like an opened wound that refused to heal. "If you love me, then you wouldn't leave me"

His dark orbs flickered with pain at my words, his muscles tensed, his jaw twitched, and I could tell he was struggling for the right words.

"I love you, more than… but I have to do what's best for you. You don't realize it now, but in the long run, it's the right thing to do"

My hands flew to my face, covering the sounds of my sobs. I was crying hard, and I had turned my back to him, not wanting him to see me at my weakest. I remembered feeling his hands on my shoulder, and hearing the words that would haunt me for an eternity.

"I'm sorry Buffy. But, I need to do this. After graduation, after we deal with the mayor and Faith, if we survive… I'm leaving. I know I told you this before, but I'm saying it again, cause I need you to know and understand that, it's going to happen. I'm not going to change my mind on the subject Buffy. I need you to understand that"

The certainty of Angel's tone sent a lighting bolt of fear through me. I swung around to face him, his dark orbs narrowed in on my face, holding my gaze. The scent of him surrounded me, soap and spice and something deeper, darker, blending with the earthy – laden air. Then those bricks that had been crushing… smothering my heart, finally won the battle, and the thump thump rhythm, got slower and more silent,

Thump thump thump thump thump thump…

Until it wasn't heard at all.

Until it stopped beating

My mouth felt dry, and I moistened my lips, feeling the dryness, my spit thick and chalky. I stopped breathing as my world fell apart right in front of me. It had hurt so much to look at him then, his eyes full with sorrow and pity.

Pity for me.

Pity that I didn't want, especially from him.

I remembered as clear as the clearest glass, turning my back to him, and running away, not stopping to even look back. The wind stinging my cheeks, the tears flowing from my eyes, like a rapid river, out of control, swallowing… ravishing everything in its path.

I got home that night, and cried myself to sleep.

"What the…"

The piercing blast of a horn, threw me right back to reality, making me jump in a panic. I grabbed hold of the arm rest and I felt the bus jerked to a stop.

"Dam crazy drivers," I heard my bus buddy mumble in the seat next to mine. "Did you see how he just cut us off like that," she expressed, then turned to me and gave me a look. "Of course you didn't. You were off in never never land somewhere"

"Sorry about that folks," the driver's voiced echoed through the narrow encasement of the bus.

I settled gingerly back into the soft seat and deliberately tried to relax my tense muscles. The bus began to move again and I once again gazed through the window. In a few hours, I would be back home. Back to a life which Angel wasn't a part of. A life I needed to get used to, cause it was my future. One I needed to embrace fully, and learn to live with.

To be Continued…


	2. Reasons Why

**Title of story**: Do what you have to do

**Title of Chapter**: Reasons Why

**Author**: Alicia08

**Rating**: PG-13

**Pairing**: B/A

**Authors Note**: This chapter basically deals with Angel's point of view!

* * *

"Oh, great, you're still alive," Cordelia came barging through the door to my office. "This is great, cause for a minute there, I thought I would come back and find your ashes on the floor," she paused. "And then ya know…I would have so been out of a job." I see her raise a hand to her chin as if contemplating life and death circumstances. "God, that is so like Buffy to only think about herself. Geez, can she be any more self righteo-" 

"Cordy…I'm still here. Not alive in the breathing sense, but I'm here," I explain hoping her rant would end. My mood now ruined. Not that I was in the best of moods a few minutes ago, but whatever mood I was in, I was in it…alone.

By myself.

"Well duh. I'm not blind. I can see you're still here. I'm just saying that she's self righteous"

I give her a look

"She is," Cordy informs me vehemently. "You're blinded by that obvious fact, cause you and her did the horizontal mambo," she stops, but it's obvious she has more to say. My shoulder slumps, waiting for the inevitable. "Which by the way, was the reason all hell broke loose back in good old Sunnyhell." She takes a few steps backward, and looks at me questionably. "You guys didn't sleep together did you?" Before I could answer, she continues. "You're not evil? Please tell me you're not evil. Angel…that's you in there...right?

"Cordy"

"Ah crap. You are evil. Damn, I told Doyle this was going to happen, but Noooo, never wants to listen to me," she continues and furthers herself away from where I sat in my chair, the distance between us getting farther and farther.

"Cordy"

"Now listen Angel. You really don't want to hurt me. It's Buffy you're after. So, um, why don't I just get out of your way and-"

"Cordy," I raise my voice, frustration rising in me, as I lift from my chair. "I'm not evil ok. Buffy and I didn't sleep together. We talked, that's all," I state firmly

The fear and tension in her dark orbs and body manner leisurely fades. Her hand rises to her face, brushing a loose strand of dark velvety hair, behind her ear. "I so knew that"

"What," I say flatly, looking to her, my eyes questioning, easing once again into my chair

"What?" she returns, her hands now at her hip

"You came in here for a reason. What's the reason," I clarify

"Oh" A few strides, and Cordy stands inches from me, leaning on the corner of my desk. "I came here to make sure you were ok, not being blown away by the wind an all…that is, if you were a pile of dust on the floor, but you're not so YaY".

She was always a terrible liar

"Fine," she exhales in exasperation, her hands flying up above her head, before they made their way back down, coming to a halt at her sides. "I need an advance of my check," she states, giving me her puppy dog eyes "There was this little cute outfit I saw in the-" she falters and then resumed. "Not helping is it?"

"No, not really." I get up, totter pass the former cheerleader nonchalantly, not really paying much attention to her ramblings, and make my way over to the filing cabinet. I open the second to top draw, retrieve a yellow folder. I proceed back to my desk, take a seat, and pick up the pen lying on the table. "How much?" I ask, not lifting my head to acknowledge her presence.

"You're the best," I hear her voice, victorious in tone. "Why don't you just sign it, and I'll fill in the rest," she tells me, making her way to my side, bending down to inspect the scene. "Right there," she points to where my signature should go.

I sigh, taking in unnecessary air into my lungs. Tilting my head to the side, I rip the check from its hold, after I furnished it with my autograph, and handed it over to Cordelia. She took it from my hand, gave me a quick hug then turned on her heal and headed towards the door. I looked up to watch her leave, but she stopped, and then slowly turned to face me. Her expression caring, and compassionate.

"Angel," she began. "You need to learn how to let her go. I know it hurts now, but give it enough time, and the pain will eventually fade," she finished.

"Cordy," I bellowed. I would rather not talk about her with you"

Something unreadable flashed across her face and was gone, carefully smoothed away behind a mask of casual indifference. "I really don't give a damn about what you would or would not rather do," she stated pointedly. "I'm telling you this for your own good."

I look up to meet her eyes, my steady brown, locked onto her dark penetrating ones. She looks at me thoughtfully. "The two of you would have never worked anyways. Just call your loses and move on Angel." When I gave her no reply, she sighed and smiled tentatively, before leaving my office.

I sat there, staring at the empty spot Cordy had occupied. Time seemed to slow then, as the memories of my brief stint as a mortal flooded my head. My eyebrows fluttered, as I recalled the beating of my heart. I was alive…blood, life-giving blood circulating through my body, my heart beating hard. It was amazing. It felt amazing. The thrill I felt as I stood in the direct rays of the sun, and then the sudden surprise and realization that I didn't burn to a cinder was so incalculable. It had made my pulse…wow, I actually had a pulse…race.

My reflection.

The overwhelming surprise I felt as my reflection stared back at me, had me in thrall. Centuries of staring into nothingness, only to finally see yourself. It had been so long, that I had forgotten what I looked like.

Even the intricate taste of food made me feel alive and giddy. I was like a little kid on Christmas morning. God, I didn't know things could taste that good. I found the taste of peanut butter in particular to be absolutely wonderful. I even enjoyed being fed by Buffy, cookie dough fudge-mint chip ice cream, but I found it far more enjoyable, having it licked off my body.

Sometimes, I think I'm being punished. Punished for the crimes I committed as a soulless demon. Fate had seen fit that I suffered immensely. Fate had finally given me the love of my life, and in the cruelest fashion imaginable, damned us to be together.

Damned me for eternity.

They had introduced her into my life, only to later forbid me from touching her. From kissing her, from making love to her. I could battle by her side in combat, and come alive by the sound of her voice. Be enthralled by a hint of her smile, the shimmer in her eyes, the warmth of her compassion, the goodness in her heart, and the magnificence of her soul, but I could never touch her. Never hold her, or imagine, yet alone have a future with her. At times, I desperately try to convince myself that I don't love her, but I do.

I always will, and that's something that will never change, no matter how much I try to deny it.

Fate was cruel indeed, but I deserved what I got. Buffy on the other hand deserved none of it. She had…is suffering because of me.

I wonder what life would be like for her, if I never was a part of her world. If Whistler had never come to me in that ally those years ago. Would things be better for her?

Would she be happier?

I close my eyes and run a hand through my hair. I feel my muscles tense at my ponderings. Why do I do this to myself?

Buffy and I were never meant to be together. If nothing has proven that to me, then that day had.

The night we had made love, as two living, and breathing individuals, I had envisioned us growing old together. Having kids, becoming a family. A day after, those dreams were no more. Buffy and I would never work.

It can't work.

There were just too many reasons why we shouldn't be together.

For one, as a human, a mortal, I was a liability to her.

Two, the oracles told me she would die. The end of days would come, and I wouldn't be able to protect her. She would die fighting, and I wouldn't be able to save her. And if Buffy died, what joy…what point would it make to live as a mortal. It only mattered if Buffy lived it with me. There would be no satisfaction, no fulfillment, in it any other way.

And now, we're back to how we first started out. I'm still a vampire with a soul, a very tricky one. One moment of true happiness and I lose it all over again. Buffy…she was where my happiness lied. So, I needed to distance myself from the temptation. It was better that way really, now that I think about it. I could never give her what she deserved.

I remember telling her that once. She needed a chance at a normal life, and I wouldn't stand in the way, even if she hadn't realized I was. Yes…it was for the best. She was moving on with her life now.

That's what she told me during our little escapades in the sewers. Really I was happy. Thrilled even.

No, no, I'm lying to myself.

She was moving on without me.

Then my mind swirled. Moving on with whom, had been my next thought. My memory had suddenly flashed back to my encounter with Willow. I'd pulled her into a corner so we could talk, and then I had seen him.

…the new guy.

Buffy had been talking to him, smiling profusely, flirting even. A sort of irrational jealousy had aroused in me. I had no reason to be jealous. This is what I wanted for her. That was why I left. This was what she deserved. To find a new boyfriend, to fall in love, and be happy.

The thought itself made me cringe. Knowing that someone else was making love to her, was kissing her, was doing the things meant for me, unnerved me to the core.

I heard a noise, something breaking in half. I open my eyes to see the armrest of the chair I was in, a vision of it's former self. It lay on the floor, separated, broken off, by me. I could feel the anger boiling within me. It happens on occasions when I think of Buffy in the arms of someone else. It's a sort of an irrational anger, but it's anger none the less. Whether or not I have a right to possess such fury is beside the point.

Needing to unnerve myself, to calm my emotions, I stand and make my way out the office and towards the elevator that would lead me to the downstairs apartment.

I get in, press the down button and wait.

The elevator came to a halt, and I pulled the gate open and walked out. I suddenly found myself standing at the foot of my bed. I stare at it for a while, and I can see myself, Buffy too…the two of us lying in bed. Her head resting on my chest. The words she had said to me, silently echoing throughout the room.

_"Angel? This is the first time I ever really felt this way." _

"_Just like I've always wanted to. Like a normal girl, falling asleep in the arms of her normal boyfriend. It's perfect_."

I feel my muscles tense, and my jaw twitch at the recollection. She was right. It was perfect. For that one day, life was perfect. Everything had been how I'd always dreamed.

Every fiber of my body now was captivated by the memory and images of Buffy and I making love. Her scent was still fresh. It mingled in the sheets, in the air. It surrounded me. She was so tiny, and I'd held her tight, never wanting to let go.

I sigh, and walk around the bed, taking a seat on the edge. My hand falls to the sheet, and I crumple it in my hand, lifting it to my face. I take a breath, needlessly of course, and her scent…our scent fills my lungs.

I throw the sheet to the floor in a fit of rage.

Why am I doing this to myself?

I shake my head in an effort to rid my self of thoughts of her. It was doing me more harm than good to be constantly thinking of her. I stand and begin to pace the room. Maybe that would help.

It didn't of course.

Buffy continued to plague my thoughts.

I collapse on my bed, the headboard shaking from my sudden weight. I lay back, and the ceiling comes into view. I close my eyes, and Cordy's words from earlier flood my mind

"_You need to learn how to let her go_"

It played over and over in my head, and then I opened my eyes, and breathed out the painful truth

"I don't know how"

The End!

**_I was planning on including a third chapter but decided against it. I was getting tired of the whole POV story telling, so I'm going to write a companion piece to this story in the "third person". It's called "Don't know how_" and can be found on this site under the name Alicia08 of course.**


End file.
